I, Porn Star (I #1) by Zara Cox Page A

both
know it’s fake. Now run along back to bed. I’ll be in touch.” I walk away
without a backward glance. I know she’s still watching me because I don’t hear
her footsteps retreating.
    I enter my
father’s study without knocking. He’s standing at the window, his gaze on the
square of darkness and light that forms Central Park at night. When he turns,
he’s holding a crystal cut glass similar to what I just used.
    The fury in his
eyes hasn’t abated, but I can tell he’s fighting to get a handle on it. Use it
to his advantage. “Can we discuss the reason I asked you here, like two adults?”
    I shut the door
behind me, shove my hands back in my pockets and stroll to the center of the
room. “By all means, Dad . But perhaps
I should save you the trouble of a discussion and offer my congratulations?”
    He looks taken
aback.
    I allow myself a
smile, but I don’t go to him or offer a handshake. There’s a reason my hands
are in my pockets. Touching my father is one step too far for me. “Delilah gave
me the good news. She also mentioned you wanted to talk schedules?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    I give a
carefree, accommodating shrug. “No problem. Just get your campaign manager to
liaise with my EA. I’ll make sure we work something out.”
    His mouth goes
slack for a second. Then he gives a brisk nod. “I appreciate it, son. I thought
this would be yet another battle with you. Although I’m still far from thrilled
about the Miami thing—”
    “The Miami thing
is done. There’s no going back. Unless you want to look weak?” I taunt.
    Fury washes over
his face but the seductive allure of power dilutes it. “Fine. But I want your
undivided attention on this campaign when I need it.”
    My gaze skates
over his shoulder to fix on a skyscraper in the distance. “Of course. This is
important to you. I get that,” I lie.
    He pauses for a
moment. Then, “Thank you, son.”
    I look into his
eyes and the words trip smoothly off my tongue. “Not at all. Your second term
as Governor of New York will be a memorable one for the Blackwood name. I’ll
make sure of it.”
    His sigh of
relief echoes in my ear as I walk out and pass the generations of Blackwood
portraits decorating the hallway.
    The first one
dates back to the Mayflower. My steps slow and I look up at the painting of
Ichabod Blackwood. He wears the same arrogant pride I see on my father’s face.
I smile at the portrait, revel in the stern admonishing in Ichabod’s gaze.
    “Take a good
look, old man. This train is never going to make it back to the station. Your
line is going to end with me.”
    I salute the
portrait and walk out of my father’s house.

9

 
    RECALL

 
    Lucky

 
    When I round the
corner of the block where my motel is located, my practiced stance of
head-down-body-hunched is fully in place, so I don’t see the brewing commotion
until I almost trip over it.
    “What the hell do
you mean, I gotta leave?” A half-dressed guest is shouting at the manager.
    “I don’t know how
else to explain it to you, mister. Department of Health says I have to shut
down immediately, so yeah, you and every guest here need to pack up your shit
and leave. The inspector is coming back in an hour. With new locks.”
    An icy rock drops
into my gut. My feet freeze on the uneven parking lot tarmac as I absorb the
words.
    “Bullshit! I’ve
been staying in this shit hole for years because my company is too cheap to put
me up in a better motel when I come into town for business. I’m more than familiar
with your complimentary rodent-per-room standards. So what’s changed? And since
when does the DOH turf people out after hours?”
    The manager
shrugs. “Fuck if I know. Look, I’m just the manager, okay? I follow orders from
on high, just like you do, so quit busting my balls.”
    “Dammit! So what
am I supposed to do?”
    “Hell, I don’t
know, find another place to stay and expense it?”
    “Fuck you! I want
a full refund, buddy, and I want to